


Boiling Point

by historiCthrenody (Cookieluv246)



Series: Roomies and Bootys [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: And John is a little baby, Crying, Fat Shaming, Fat Vriska Jokes, Frottage, I think I put enough damn tags, In which Dave is a Jerk, Jealousy, M/M, Minor John/Vriska, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 17:05:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cookieluv246/pseuds/historiCthrenody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Normally, rooming it up with your bestfriend would be the most satisfying experience in a young man's life, sharing the mancave with ye fellow man. Yet for some reason you just couldn't enjoy it. When most would be hanging out, playing video games and just generally chilling with the next coolest dude in the room, you were brooding. You were miserable beyond consolability, that of which made it that even the world's finest psychiatrist that friendship could buy couldn't help. </p><p>John had a girlfriend.</p><p>John had a girlfriend, and she was a <i>bitch</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boiling Point

You had a feeling, today was going to be a good day. It was still light outside, quite early in fact. The birds were chirping, the sun was shining, the bee's were--

"DAVE!!!!!!!!!!"

Ah yes, the euphonic sounds of best buddy suffrage. It all rang sweet like a sicknasty beat pit pattering down on a cold winter street. Shit you were going to have to write that one down. For the more reasonable minded individuals, these sounds would harbor distress into the unlucky victim that the nerdrage was directed to. The thing was, it was quite an ordinary occurrence that you were hardly phased. Normally, rooming it up with your best friend would be the most satisfying experience in a young man's life, sharing the mancave with ye fellow man. Yet for some reason you just couldn't enjoy it. When most would be hanging out, playing video games and just generally chilling with the next coolest dude in the room, you were brooding. You were miserable beyond consolability, that of which made it that even the world's finest psychiatrist that friendship could buy couldn't help. John had a girlfriend. John had a girlfriend, and she was a _bitch_.

"YOU HAVE _GOT_ TO BE KIDDING ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

You were brought back to the present as you heard thumping coming towards the room. You couldn't help but smirk to yourself for what was about to happen. A young man was about to stand into his (shared) bedroom and await another unfortunate surprise. The door swung open with a force that only an Egbert could pull off, for the short period that you saw, he seemed like he was fuming. That made your prank even more hilarious. After barely a minute's notice, the bucket fell straight on John's head. Maybe the water would drench out the fire in his heart. You almost felt bad for the poor guy. Almost. 

Hell, you almost swore you could see the steam erupting from his body. But despite what science could lead you to believe, the anger didn't subside at all. As he slowly brought up his head, it was then you knew: Oh boy, you had done it now. Smile still ever present on your smug ass face, you sat there and enjoyed your handiwork. From the face he looked like one of those ratty dogs that had way too much hair and not enough body to hold up all that fluff of fur. Yet his body was far from tiny. When you had first met him, he was an actual real life twink-- but also kind of on the chubby side. You may have thought it was actually really endearing, but puberty treated him a little too kindly. Those fat's going straight to all the right places. Especially those arms. Hot DAMN. Body builders ran in his family and it definitely was beginning to show. He wasn't bulky, but you could see the foundation was there.

Thinking on it, it was actually really surprising that he managed to stay so long without a girlfriend. John was actually really cute in that way that girls seem to dig. All dorky yet actually attractive, baby blue eyes, nice cherry lips, beautiful fucking eyelashes that you know must make a lot of girl's jeal\-- but you couldn't think about that hot bod for too long as you were suddenly racked with a face full of angry meilleur ami. All 170 pounds of soaking, angry, attractive best-friend and fuck, you didn't think this through. 

"ARE YOU FUCKING LISTENING TO ME YOU PIECE OF HORSESHIT???"

"What sorry, I was too busy admiring how upset the so called 'prankmaster' is over a simple joke."

"JOKES ARE SUPPOSE TO BE FUNNY!!!!! PRANKS ARE GOOD IN MODERATION. BUT YOU??? YOU HAVE BEEN UNFRICKINBEARABLE, THIS IS LIKE THE THIRD TIME IN A WEEK STRIDER!!!!!!!!" You could almost feel the one's seeping through those metaphorical explanation marks. You chuckled silently, but this was obviously no laughing matter to John. His hands balled into your neatly pressed shirt--and man you just ironed that--shaking you around like a God damn ragdoll. "WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF?"

You thought about it for a moment. I mean, you could apologize. Make this right. Make him not hate you. Spare the grief.

Nah.

"Roses are red, violets are blue. Your girlfriend's fat, and so are you."

You were almost whistling through your teeth with your teetering, but that snarky ass remark only earned you a literal headache as he bashed your fucking skulls together. As if you were the innocent bystander in a rock concert as he went full on metal.

"Jesus--OW!" 

Amidst all your asshattery and tomfoolery, you were starting to get the impression that your friend was actually in the mood for homocide. You rolled a bit to the side, trying to deflect his flailing, but somewhere along the lines the punches got lost in translation. Punches turned into kicks, kicks turned into hair tugs. Your name was Dave Strider and you were having a tussel with your best mate. 

"I'M SICK OF YOUR SHIT DAVE! WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE SUCH A DOUCHEBAG??" 

 _Pow_ , guess you're eating at subways tonight as you try their new dish '4 inch knuckle sandwich'.

"I don't know John, why are you acting like such a wet blanket?"

Creak, as you manage to push him off the bed. His glasses hanging loose on his face but his focus on kicking your ass is remarkably on point. 

"I WOULDN'T HAVE BOTHERED RENTING THIS STUPID APARTMENT WITH YOU IF I KNEW YOU WERE GOING BE SUCH A DICKWAD YOU DICKWAD!"

 **Thud** , you couldn't tell if that was a punch to your heart literally or figuritively at this point.

"Whatever, why don't you go hang with your girlfriend or something? You're already halfway living there. I'll even help you pack, might as well make the full transformation in to SAPLESS SACK OF WHIPPED ASS."

Slap. 

"Oh SHUT UP. MOST OF THE TIME YOU'RE IN YOUR FUCKING ROOM ANYWAY. YOU BARELY EVEN TALK TO ME, WHAT THE HELL DAVE?!"

 _Crash_ , ow shit you were back on the bottom. Not cool. You were about to make a snide comment about how 'he never looks you in the eyes when you're making love anymore' but suddenly you felt like the biggest jerkoff in the world, as you looked up at him and... Holy fuck, was he crying?

"Dude..."

The punches had stopped, and you were awkwardly laying fumbled on your back as your bestfriend was straddled on top of you, crying like a lost fucking puppy holy shit no how do you deal with this? Fuck. Fuck this, you fucked up.

"It's like what even happened to my bestfriend? Why does he suddenly hate me? What did I even do I...?"

You didn't really know what to do in this situation. You wanted to hold him and make him feel better, but this time you were the actual cause of this. And you fucking hated it.

"Hey, bro no. I mean we're still best bro's it's not like--"

"Like WHAT Dave? Like you're avoiding me? Like you won't even look at me in the face half the time? And all this passive agressive BULLSHIT? What the hell else am I suppose to think!"

"Look I'm sorry I replaced your toothpaste with shaving cream--"

"IT'S NOT EVEN ABOUT THAT!"

Here goes the shirt grabbing. You winced as you stood back prepared. You were prepared for another punch in the face, prepared to be thrown across the wall, prepared to be yelled at into oblivion, but you were not prepared for any contact with his lips. And you were nowhere near prepared for those lips to be on top of yours. They were salty. That was the first thing that struck you on contact. His lips were full but chapped, he had a horrible tendency to bite his lips as a nervous habit. You caught them bleeding on more then one occassion, and you always wondered how he'd look as you pressed all his buttons. If he would bite those thick cherry lips sore right before he came, right before you--

"Do you know, how hard it is to like such a dense prick?" 

What. 

"To like such a DENSE fucking SHITTY ass INSUFERABLE ASSHOLE PRICK LIKE YOU?"

_What._

"Wha--"

"Shut up." He wiped at his face with the back of his arm and looked down, exhausted and irritated. His voice went quiet, and his eyes grew solemn as he spoke. "I'll leave before the end of the week, don't worry." As he began to get up all your adrenaline rushed straight from your head to your body. You moved like clockwork as you grabbed his arms, hands digging into his skin as you tightly pressed them into his back; crashing your lips together in the heat of the moment. You probably hurt him, you concur, feeling some teeth as you forced your lips to tango sparks with eachother. Heat flashes going straight down your spine, as you could feel the blood circulate to your face and metal tinge the dance between your tongues.

"Mm--"

You felt his arms clutch around your body, as it occured to you that he was settling in to you. Holy shit. Holy shit, you couldn't believe it. He was actually enjoying this, he was actually--

"Dave.."

Your hands found its way down to his hip, he was keening to your touch and you--and he...

"What?"

He still looked like he was crying, a gross feeling roaming your stomach. You panicked as your mind wandered, shit did he not want this? Did you fuck up somewhere? Did you accident--

"That's not fucking fair Dave." Shit. Shit how were you suppose to-- "You don't get to fucking do that, ok?" He sniffed and rubbed at his face, "Be an asshole one minute and then be all lovey dovey and gentle the next..." He almost looked like he was reaching for his glasses, but you moved quicker. Kissing him all over you could reach: his cheek, his nose, his ear; he was perfect like this, so perfect that you didn't want him to hide.

"M'sorry." Your arms move to lock him into a cuddle. "Seriously I mean. I had no idea you were even..."

"Gay? I'm not gay Dave."

"This conversation sounds familiar."

His eyebrows furrowed. You felt a pinch to your armpit that was merely irritating at first but then transitioned to OW SHIT OW THAT ACTUALLY HURTS FUCK territory pretty quickly. But pain was soon replaced with a soft kiss and just like a chocolate bandaid, everything was better.

"I like you Dave."

"Thank you." 

You answered that a little too quickly and his face contorted to irritation again. He grabs you by the cheeks and forces your eyes to meet as he reiterates 

"I don't like other boys Dave, I like you."

"Woah."

Oh. Your face gave away your flush, not only was he staring directly at you, but your shades were long gone across the room somewhere. The kissing was one thing, but to hear it was a-fucking-nother. In a lot of ways this whole thing surpises you, I guess the idea of him being sort of gay but not gay isn't an impossible one. It's more or less flattering to hear him feel that way about you regardless. It gives you butterflies like a God damn school girl as she waits for her crush of the month to answer her text messages, sort of way. Yet in other ways, it just seems rather fitting for a guy like John. You doubt even if he was completely gay he would ever want to admit it, but who the fuck cares about all that hard ass shit, you are too fucking happy, you want to sing it to the heavens: he likes you, he likes you, fuck you flower petals he fucking likes you. But a nagging throb returns in your head as you're reminded that shit. Shit, shit he likes you but he has a girlfriend. Shit, you're being a home-wrecker. Even if the girl's a bitch, this is going straight down not cool territory.

"Is that how you'll explain this whole episode to your girlfriend before she literally takes a piss on you?"

Shit. You regret saying that immediately as he gets that tortured puppy look, shit shit you can't do anything right. You hold him to your chest because fuck that noise, murmuring apologies into his hair. Curse your lack of filtering and lack of God damn common sense.

"I don't have a girlfriend." 

Hold the fucking phone.

" _What?_ " 

"We haven't been dating for weeks."

WHAT?

"John what do you think this is, some Primetime PBS special bullshit? You are a fucking 90s kid you know that shitty lie about your girlfriend in Canada, make em jealous' stick never works. You were literally raised by fucking sitcoms what the ACTUAL SAINT NICOLAS CAGE OF STUBBLY FUCK JOHN?"

"Ok first of all don't bring Nicolas Cage into this, and second, I wasn't lying about having a girlfriend! I mean I did for a little while...It just didn't work out ok. It only really lasted maybe a week or two."

"Then why the HELL did you keep ACTING like you had a GIRLFRIEND?"  

"I never pretended to have a girlfriend, get your head out your ass! You just fucking stopped talking to me!! We went on like two dates, but neither of us were really that commited...Plus, I mean I didn't really think you cared that much, I told you about her like once and you basically were all like 'cool beans wrap ur willy' or some shit or another."

... Now that you think about it. He had stopped mentioning his girlfriend basically the minute he started mentioning his girlfriend. And shit you might not have put out exactly the best vibes about the whole thing. Holy shit. You really are the asshole here. You hold him tightly around his waist, apologizing in barely comprehensible mumbles. He doesn't say anything and that makes you nervous, but atleast he's stopped crying so you figure it's better to count your blessings.

"Hey John?"

"Hm?"

"You're not fat. Your exgirlfriend still is though."

"I--"

You steal another kiss from him before he has time to react, but that just leads him to sputter dumbly and spit everywhere and you can't stop yourself from laughing at him.

"You are literally the worst person I have ever met."

"I guess you just have a thing for assholes, huh John?" 

Between your sick eyebrow skills and sweet burns, John was no match and proceeded to flip the fuck out in the cutest way humanly possible. You don't believe you could quit teasing him if you tried. It was well worth every slap and kick to the face, you were just that suave of a gentleman. But he surpises you with another kiss, and then another, to the point that you have to wonder how lonely this kid was all this time. He seems pretty lonely right now. With each kiss you're reminded of the fact that this is indeed really John and not just a fabrication of your vivid imagination. You know this because it's so much better then anything you have ever dreamt up in the past years you've known him. The way he's gentle and hesitant while you're more hungry and seeking. But even between your stark differences, you both had a common desperate need, and you suppose that's how it's always been. How it always will be. 

You can hear his breathing become more erratic and smile to yourself as you take breaks between his lips to kiss along his jaw and neck. You hadn't ventured your hands below the belt this entire time, because you are a classy mother, but you do allow yourself to rub a hand down his thigh which causes him to shiver. Which causes you to shiver.

"Hh--"

You can see the way his legs rub together, and you are almost positive that John has taken a one way trip to boner town. What a sensetive guy. But you'll let him save face, in preference of holding his shirt up to lick long lengths down his chest. He watches you press more kisses and licks down his abdomen, and you can hear him breathe your name. He's sucking his fingers as he watches you move, shifting so his back is against the wall. You can't imagine what you look like, looking at him, but you can feel your cheaks heating the more you soak in the sight. Gripping the stretchy band of elastic, you tug his pant's down enough to be able to reach the skin of his hip. Teeth drawing on the tender area, before biting down rough.

"AH,"

That's the first time you hear an audible cry from John, and it honestly sends ripples down your nipples as you suck in a new forming hicky into his perfect skin. Repeating the actions as you hope to get another response, or a better response, or anything.

"AaHh--"

You can feel his lower half quivering underneath you, and it almost physically hurts you to keep teasing him like this. You huff, biting down on his thigh enough to turn the patch of skin red. You mentally chastize your best bro for being too damn sexy for his own good. Stupid sexy John.

"Dave!"

"Sup."

You have to pat yourself on the back for being so ice chill throughout all this, but you have a feeling he's not quite as impressed as he tries to glare at you. Keywords being tried. His expression falls flat for the mere fact that it is condeluded with such desperation and urgency, poor kid's too horny to even sass you. You grin, knowing exactly what you want to do to him. You have had this course mapped out for so long you could pretty much recite this in your sleep, and hell you might already have done so for all you know. You want to drive him crazy the way he's been driving you for ten years, three months, two weeks, and a day-- but who's counting? You want to be what pushes him off the the train tracks as he messes up his clothes, his bed, himself, all under your meticulous kisses, licks, presses and...fuck. The way he's pushing up his hips is making you knaw holes in your gum, you watch the rise and fall of his stomach before you snap yourself out of his siren's song. You drag your mouth directly down his thigh and don't even bother to avoid his dick this time. The moment your face is directly at his crotch, you hear his breathing speed up. Watching him squirm and fidget without you even having to lay a single finger on him? Priceless. Some things money can't buy, for everything else there's--

"Dave." It came out nothing shy of a whisper, but you were so hyperaware of him that he might as well have shouted. Your head flung up to catch his eyes, as warm hands cupped your face. 

"What?"

"Come up here."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"I'm lonely."

There goes that stomach flip. This time it's a good one as you crack another smile at him. How the hell you managed to rake yourself such a cute ~~boyfriend~~ bestfriend is beyond you. You do as he says, You were confused, but did as you were told, settling back to exactly where you started. He seems to like kissing so you go back to doing that, but your hand is already worming it's way inside of his pant's which causes him to make a sharp inhale. He whines out your name, but you don't let it deter you as you grip around his length and woah. You figured he was in bonertown from the way he was acting, but you've handle enough dick to know when it was creeping towards jizz-mountain. The way it throbbed, and how slick it was as you rubbed your thumb along a vein.

"Damn, John."

He only replies in a whine. You think for a moment. An idea strikes you. Pulling your hand back from out of his jammies you push his pants and undergarments completely out the way before doing the same to your own.

"Dave?" There was fear in his voice, but you shoosh it all the way, fluttering kisses at his mouth to calm him down. He doesn't seem wholey convinced, until he notices the way your hips are alligned. He either begins to catch on, or he is simply staring at your cocks placed together. He concludes your thoughts, as he mumbles,

"Yours is bigger."

"You're thicker." 

He begins to quirk his mouth in a way that leads you to believe, that HE believe's that you're going to allow him time to think of some sort of comeback. But John Egbert is sorely mistaken. You let your hips do the talking, your weight grinding into his pelvis; rocking back and forth as your hand wraps around both cocks. Your mouths sloppily colliding as you boldly try to press your tongue down his throat. He looks a little overwhelmed at all the stimulus so you use your other hand to stroke his cheek affectionately. But you don't stop, as your dicks go from slightly uncomfortable chafing to a damn near water slide as pre and sweat slick up your thighs and crotch. Your panting just as loud as his, but you are barely breathing as you two throwback eachother's carbon dioxide.

"Dave~!" He's rocking back on his own, holy shit he's really enjoying this. You're really enjoying this. You're both actually fucking doing this and you almost forget how to breathe, but suddenly he's looking at you and he's drooling and the face he's making-- he wants it so bad and you can't take it. This is just too fucking much for you.

"John--!" You close your eyes and get lost as your blood pulses cold, teeth gritting as your grip tightens on both your cocks. You let out a shuddery breath before you feel a surge of energy leave your dick and your whining John's name like a fucking baby, and this whole scenario suddenly becomes hella embarassing. You weren't suppose to come first, fucking weakass teenage body shit. John least he doesn't seem to mind, what a guy-- infact, this seems to elicit his own orgasm as he yells your name, his hips gyrating. He shakes as you throb and you can't help but find yourself absolutely entranced. As you slowly come down you notice he's still riding out his climax, you decide to do him a solid as you move your hand to help him out. Milking out the rest of him, which leads him a blubbering mess, jizz filling your hand, and shit how long was he backed up? After a while though, he stops, and you become highly receptive to the mess on your bed, your clothes, even on the floor Jesus Christ there is basically jizz everywhere.

"Wow."

He's the first to speak, and his eyes look lost and clouded. You brush his dampened bangs out the way with your non jizz covered hand, before lightly knocking your head's together.

"Yeah."

"So..."

Silence. Awkwardness was spread across the room as several questions hang like curtains on the window sill, waiting to be acknowledged by a warm summer breeze, or be forcibly acknowleded by the stupid cat that won't leave the fuckers alone and shred the remnants up into little pieces as they-- 

"Does this mean we're...um..."

"It doesn't have to." He looks pained at your answer, and you're quick to make better of it. Because fuck you if you're going to mess up the one thing you've wanted more then anything after all this."But I'd like it if you want to I mean."  Shit that was way too honest, fucking fuck you you can't just pour out your feelings like dirty water from a bucket you dumb fucking--

"Can we?"

Your eyes widen again. You've basically slept with the guy, but you're still fluttering at the smallest things and Christ you're so fucking whipped for him.

"Yeah."

He beams at you and you have no idea where that extra strength came from, but he's toppling you and nosing you and you are basically dating a fucking puppy. This is awesome.

"Babe, please, not the face jesus don't start licking me." He stomps his knee on your thigh and you playfully yelp, "This is domestic abuse John, I'm calling the cops! 9-1-1, help, my boyfriend is attacking me and also im pregnant so come like now. What do you mean is this a prank call? You're wounding me officers--MMHH!!"He covers your mouth, but he didn't know, that you knew the secret arts of weirding people out enough to get them to stop touching you. You licked his hands and he basically squeaked and you both started laughing, and he snorted, and you're laughing harder and wow. This was the most fun you've had this entire time. Everything was great.

"Hey Dave?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I'll love you after you take a shower."

He hit you with a pillow for the snark remark, but all you could do was laugh harder. Your name was Dave Strider and it is an absolutely fantastic day.

**Author's Note:**

> I had a need, and I fulfilled it.  
> Never enough JohnDave.  
> Never.  
> I'm so sorry for the characterization I tried so hard never again will I Dave POV, NEVER AGAIN.  
> Also why does the spacing always hurt me so much. Sigh sigh.
> 
> I really really hope you guys enjoyed this. Thank you[ SnoopDad ](http://sergeantsarcasm1.tumblr.com)for Beta'ing.


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